


In Love and Death

by Mike_H



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:55:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24521200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mike_H/pseuds/Mike_H
Relationships: Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara
Comments: 12
Kudos: 79





	In Love and Death

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thequinnmachine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequinnmachine/gifts).



He wakes to the sound of Tobirama's heart, beating, beating.

Madara does not move. He lies there, his head upon Tobirama's chest, listening. The song of it soothes him.

He does not open his eyes. Doesn't want to face the world just yet. Here, upon the ground, within Tobirama's arms, he feels safe. In this world, _safe_ is a rarity. A precious thing. Madara does what he can to prolong it, if only for a little.

Tobirama's hand in his hair, caressing. He does not speak, and Madara knows why.

Knows that Tobirama is clinging to this moment too.

Funny how silence makes everything so loud. The rhythm of his heartbeat. Tobirama's breaths, in tandem with Madara's own. The sound of the forest, awake around them. The river, still and quiet. Madara hears it anyway.

This, he supposes, is what the afterlife would feel like.

No strife. No war. No unexplained, age-old hatred.

Just time, eternal, and space that's made for them and none else.

  


* * *

  


Tobirama is a wonder.

He is an artist, painting the world in swatches of red. Moonlight upon his blade. The glint of it, ominous, savage.

Madara watches, mesmerized.

He knows he shouldn't. Knows that he should fear him, name him enemy.

He cannot.

Tobirama enchants him, and Madara cannot — does not want to — look away.

This is a dance. The rhythm of Tobirama's blade, slicing through flesh. There is no weapon, no armor that can stop him. He is a force of nature, this relentless thing.

In another life, Madara thinks, Tobirama would be a conqueror.

He fells his enemies the way he would topple empires. People often equate Tobirama with frost, but Madara knows, he is fire and murder, raging, unstoppable.

There is a spark in the dark depths of his eyes. Hungry. Triumphant. A smile breaks across his face, wolf-wild, edged with insanity.

Across the field, Tobirama catches his gaze.

Madara feels himself shiver.

  


* * *

  


He is a traitor.

Madara knows this, is partially ashamed of it, does not truly care.

He cannot care when Tobirama pushes him up against the rough bark of a tree, kisses the corner of Madara's mouth, his jawline, his neck, his collarbone.

Tobirama's teeth, sinking into flesh. Scent of blood upon the air. His own, the blood of their kinsmen, their enemies, Madara does not care which.

He arches into Tobirama's touch. Arms around Tobirama's neck, fingers in the hairs upon his nape.

This show of trust thrills him. Tobirama, before him, unguarded eyes. His smile that Madara knows he shares with none else. His hand, along the curve of Madara's ass, beneath his thigh, lifting.

Madara complies. He is an eager thing, wrapping his legs around Tobirama's waist.

Tobirama is heat and shadow, enveloping. He is everywhere, hands and teeth and lips, taking, taking. He presses into Madara, fucks him hard against the tree, in that brutal way he always does after battle.

They are wild things, snapping, howling. Tobirama's nails bite into Madara's flesh, drawing blood, drawing cries from Madara that are dangerously loud within the quiet of the forest.

They could be discovered. Someone could stumble upon them and know them traitors. They could be killed.

The very thought intrigues him.

To die in the forest, in Tobirama's arms, with Tobirama still inside him. Death would be a beautiful thing.

  


* * *

  


Dawn finds them entangled in each other's embrace.

Madara wakes to Tobirama's gaze upon him. So much love in his eyes. So much desire. Madara feels himself burn beneath the ferocity of it.

He stares at Tobirama till all else fades. Everything is narrowed down to this moment, looking at each other because they are all that matters.

No promises pass between them. Madara knows that in time, they will meet again upon the battlefield. This war would never end. It would consume them all.

But with Tobirama, he is unafraid.

Madara knows that even amid the chaos of battle, his eyes would stray to Tobirama's own. They would always find each other. And not even death will part them.


End file.
